Chapter Thirteen

Gracelyn sat in the family room at the McCullough ranch, holding Abigail and waiting while Duncan was talking on the phone to Noah about the latest updates in the investigation. She felt drained. Numb. But she knew those feelings would have been much worse had it been her sister’s body that was found.

That was what she’d first thought when Slater had called hours earlier to tell them what had happened. Gracelyn had thought that Zimmer had gotten to Allie and had silenced her for good.

Instead, Zimmer was the one who was dead.

Gracelyn had read the preliminary report that Noah had done, and someone out walking their dog had spotted Zimmer slumped behind the wheel of his truck that was parked outside a long-stay motel. As Slater had said, he’d died from a gunshot wound to the head that appeared to be self-inflicted.

She wasn’t buying that.

And apparently neither was Ruston, Joelle, Duncan, Slater or Noah. Like her, they were all convinced that Zimmer had been murdered. Probably by the same person who’d already murdered at least three other people and had hired those fake cops to come after Ruston and her.

“You should eat,” Ruston said, tipping his head to the breakfast sandwich that was on the end table to her right. It was one of many sandwiches that Luca had dropped off from the diner.

Ruston leaned in and smiled at Abigail. “Hey, sweet girl.” He brushed a kiss on her cheek.

Abigail turned her head toward him, something she’d only recently started doing, and she studied Ruston for a couple of seconds before her tiny mouth bowed into a smile. The baby’s attention then shifted to his badge that he had pinned to his shirt. It was shiny, since it was new and had been delivered earlier, courtesy of Captain O’Malley. Gracelyn was glad the captain had made that kind of effort, because it showed she still had plenty of faith in Ruston as a cop.

“Want me to hold Abigail while you eat?” Ruston asked.

Gracelyn wasn’t sure her stomach was settled enough to handle any food, but it was obvious Ruston was concerned about her. Added to that, she really did need to try to eat something, since she couldn’t even remember when her last meal had been. So, she handed him the baby and picked up the sandwich. Just as Duncan finished his latest phone call.

“Time of death for Zimmer was about ten last night. The medical examiner agrees that it’s not suicide,” Duncan said right off. “The angle of the shot is off. Good, but off.”

“Close range or from a distance?” Joelle asked. She was in the chair next to Duncan and was eating a bagel that had been slathered with cream cheese.

“Close range but not point-blank,” Duncan supplied. “Noah believes Zimmer’s killer was waiting for him, and when Zimmer parked in front of his motel room, the killer shot him. Not through the glass. Zimmer had apparently lowered his windows.”

“Because he knew his killer and was going to talk to him or her?” Ruston wanted to know.

“Maybe. Noah said the AC wasn’t working in Zimmer’s truck, so both the driver’s and passenger’s windows were down. He was shot through the passenger’s window. The killer could have simply walked up to him, fired and then placed the gun in Zimmer’s hand to try to make it look as if he’d pulled the trigger.”

Gracelyn took a moment, fixing that scenario in her mind. “Is the gun registered to Zimmer?”

Duncan shook his head. “It was reported stolen about a year ago, so no way to trace it. Zimmer had a slide holster in the back of his jeans, but there was no gun inside it.”

“Which meant the killer likely took it,” Ruston said, shaking his head. “Was the motel parking lot well lit? And please tell me there are security cameras nearby.”

Duncan’s sigh said it all. “No cameras, bad lighting, and in a neighborhood where it’s rare for someone to come forward and report what they saw.”

The killer would have known all of that. Added to that, it’d been night, and the darkness would have given him an advantage.

Duncan washed down a bite of his breakfast burrito with some coffee and shifted his attention to Gracelyn. “There’s been no sign of your sister. Why don’t you go ahead and leave her another message on the private Facebook page? Tell her I want to talk to her about that deal she was looking to make.”

“I will,” Gracelyn said, taking out her phone to do that. “But I doubt she’ll believe that.”

“Probably not, but we need to find her. And, yeah, there’s a slim-to-none chance of a deal, but if she cooperates, the DA might show some leniency.”

Gracelyn didn’t say aloud that Allie didn’t deserve leniency. Not after what she’d tried to do to Abigail, but that wasn’t for her to decide. Right now, Allie just needed to turn herself in or she would likely end up dead like Zimmer.

She left the message for Allie just as Duncan’s phone rang. “It’s Hank, one of the ranch hands,” he relayed.

Gracelyn couldn’t hear what the hand said, but whatever it was caused Duncan to get to his feet and make a beeline toward the front window. “We have a visitor,” Duncan explained. “It’s Tony. He said he’s here to make a confession.”

“A confession?” Ruston and she repeated in unison.

Mercy. Gracelyn hadn’t seen this coming. Then again, maybe this was just another ruse to get close to Ruston and her so he could kill them.

Duncan must have had the same concerns, because he glanced back at Joelle. “Why don’t Slater and you go ahead and take the baby upstairs?”

Joelle nodded, immediately got up and took Abigail from Ruston. Gracelyn figured Duncan was about to tell her to go with them, but he didn’t.

“Tony’s still at the end of the road, and the hands can and will block him from coming closer. It’s up to you whether or not you want to see him,” Duncan explained, looking at both Ruston and her. He listened to something else Hank said. “Tony’s alone and volunteered to be disarmed before he comes in the house.”

Before Duncan had added that last part, Gracelyn had figured they would be having this conversation with Tony on the porch and Ruston and she would be tucked back in the foyer.

“We’ll talk to him,” Gracelyn agreed after she got a nod from Ruston. “I want to hear what he has to say.”

They had a lot of information about the murders and attacks. Info from plenty of sources that might or might not be reliable. Zimmer, Allie, Charla and Devin. If Tony was truly here to confess, then all of those pieces of info might actually fit. They might be able to make an arrest and put a stop to any other murders or attacks.

“Frisk him thoroughly,” Duncan told the ranch hand on the phone. “Hold on to any weapons he has and then drive him to the house in your truck. If this is some kind of last-ditch effort, Tony’s vehicle could be rigged with explosives.”

Gracelyn hadn’t even considered that, a reminder that she really needed to try to keep a clear head. If Tony was desperate enough to make a confession, then he might want to first do as much damage as possible.

Since Ruston and Duncan were already at the front windows and had their weapons drawn, Gracelyn moved to the side one and took out her gun as well. The ranch hands were keeping an eye on the yard to make sure no one tried to sneak into the house, but she needed to do something to make sure they weren’t attacked.

It was a good five minutes before Gracelyn saw the truck coming up the road, and she lost sight of it when it turned down the driveway toward the house. Both Duncan and Ruston stayed in place until the driver turned off the engine, and then they went to the door.

“Hang back until we have Tony inside,” Duncan told her. “I’ve got to turn off the security system for just a couple of seconds. Once Tony is inside, I’ll turn it back on.”

Gracelyn muttered an agreement and continued to keep watch out the side window, especially since there’d be that short pause for the security. It wasn’t long before the footsteps on the porch had her turning in that direction. Tony stepped in, and while he frowned at Duncan and Ruston basically holding him at gunpoint, he didn’t protest.

“I won’t take much of your time,” Tony insisted, spearing Ruston with his gaze before he did the same to her.

Duncan maneuvered Tony into the foyer so he could shut the door, and Gracelyn saw him rearm the security system. Only then did Gracelyn give Tony her full attention. He looked disheveled, with his clothes wrinkled and stubble that was well past the fashionable stage. Like the rest of them, Tony didn’t appear to have gotten much sleep.

“I’m resigning from SAPD today,” Tony stated. He’d somehow managed to keep the emotion out of his flat tone, but the emotion was there in his eyes. A mix of anger and frustration. And guilt.

“You said you were here to make a confession,” Ruston pressed. No flat tone for him. There was a “get on with this” edge to his voice.

Tony nodded. “Internal Affairs is examining my financials, and it won’t take them long to discover that I accepted money from Marty. Payment in exchange for redirecting investigations so they didn’t lead to him.”

Ruston uttered a single raw word of profanity. “You sold out Gracelyn and me at the baby farm?”

“No,” Tony was quick to say. “Hell, no. Nothing like that.” He groaned and shook his head. “I was broke and behind in my child support. My ex was going to report me, and I would have maybe ended up losing my job, so I borrowed money from Marty. I know it was stupid,” he quickly added, “but I was desperate.”

“Desperate enough to sell out your badge,” Ruston snapped, taking the words right out of Gracelyn’s mouth.

Tony sighed. “Yes, but I didn’t see it as selling out. I thought, stupidly thought,” he amended, “that I could get my ex off my back and find another way to pay Marty what I owed him.” He paused. “But Marty didn’t want payback in the form of money. He wanted a cop in his pocket. He got one, but I never compromised the safety of any officers. Like I said, I only redirected investigations away from Marty.”

The anger and disgust rolled through her, and Gracelyn had to tamp some of that down before she could speak. “Did you tell Internal Affairs this?”

“No, but I will. I wanted to tell Ruston and you first, and then I’ll talk to Charla. Then I’ll turn myself in.”

“Charla doesn’t know what you’ve done?” Gracelyn asked.

“No, and she’ll be crushed,” Tony concluded.

Maybe. But if Charla was the killer, then she might be pleased about this development, because in a way, it took some of the focus off the person behind the attacks and murders.

Tony pulled in a long breath. “I didn’t directly do anything to put the two of you in danger, but by protecting Marty, the danger happened anyway.”

Yes, it had. And Internal Affairs would no doubt question him about that once he told them what he’d done.

If he told them, that was.

It occurred to her that Tony might be planning to go on the run. But if so, why come here first? Was this actually some kind of ploy to distract them? That thought flashed in her head just as Duncan’s phone rang.

“It’s Hank,” Duncan muttered, keeping his gaze on Tony while he took the call. Gracelyn couldn’t hear what the hand said, but whatever it was prompted Duncan to mutter his own word of profanity, and he shook his head. “No, search them and bring them up. I’ll call for every available deputy to respond.” And Duncan proceeded to contact Dispatch.

Gracelyn’s stomach dropped. “Are we about to be attacked?” she asked Duncan the second he finished the call.

“I don’t think so. Hank said that Devin just arrived,” Duncan explained. “And he has Allie with him. Devin wants me to arrest her.”

“Allie,” Gracelyn murmured, and she looked at Ruston to get his take on this.

He was apparently on the same wavelength, because she could see the uneasiness in his eyes. Then again, that feeling had already been there for both of them with Tony’s arrival. Now it was skyrocketing.

It could be a coincidence that two of their suspects, Tony and Devin, were there at the same time, but Gracelyn didn’t like coincidences. Maybe Tony and Devin were working together. This could be the start of another attack.

Part of her was relieved her sister was alive. But there was no relief whatsoever in the fact that Devin was the one bringing her in. Well, supposedly he was, anyway. Gracelyn didn’t trust Devin any more than she did Tony or her sister.

Or Charla.

Since Charla was the only one of their suspects who hadn’t shown up, that made Gracelyn wonder where she was. Was she standing back, watching this all play out after she’d set it in motion?

Perhaps.

Or Devin could be the one playing games here. But if he was the one responsible for the murders and attacks, then why hadn’t he just killed Allie? That didn’t help settle Gracelyn’s worries about Devin, since this could be a sort of reverse psychology. A way to try to make himself look innocent by keeping one loose end alive.

“I don’t want Allie in the house,” Ruston insisted. “She might try to go after Abigail.”

Gracelyn was in complete agreement, and apparently so was Duncan since he didn’t protest that. “Hank, let me speak to Devin,” Duncan told the ranch hand. “I’m putting the call on speaker.”

The downside to that was Tony was standing right there and would be able to hear everything, but that was better than the alternative of bringing Devin and Allie to the house. Or sending Tony on his way. If Tony had hooked up with Devin to do another attack, Gracelyn thought it would be best if they weren’t together. Then again, it was possible Devin was counting on Tony to be his inside man in whatever might be about to happen. That was why Gracelyn kept her attention pinned to Tony.

“Don’t,” she warned Tony when he reached for something in his pocket.

Tony huffed, clearly annoyed at her warning. “I just want to call SAPD and get you some help out here.”

“No calls,” Duncan ordered, muting his phone so that Devin wouldn’t be able to hear any of this. “Just stand there and don’t say anything.”

Tony’s eyes narrowed, but he held up his hands as if in mock surrender. Oh, yes. Gracelyn was definitely going to watch him.

Duncan’s phone began to ding with a series of texts, and Gracelyn caught glimpses of his screen. Carmen, Luca and Woodrow were on their way.

“Sheriff Holder,” Devin said the moment he was on the phone. “I’ve got Allie with me.”

“So I heard. How did you know I was here?” Duncan asked.

Devin seemed to hesitate as if he hadn’t expected the question. “Allie told me about the shooting at the sheriff’s office, and I figured the place was a giant crime scene right now.”

It was, and since the CSIs were working the scene, the building was temporarily closed, and Duncan and the other deputies were working from home.

“I guessed you’d come back here with Gracelyn,” Devin tacked on to his explanation.

“And you decided to bring Allie with you.” The remark was heavy with skepticism.

“He brought me here against my will,” Allie shouted. “He tied my hands and kidnapped me.”

“I found her trying to sneak into my house,” Devin countered. “I’d changed the locks, and she’d broken a window. When I confronted her, she tried to punch me. Then bite me. Then scratch me.” He sounded riled about that. “I brought her here so you can arrest her.”

“SAPD could have done that much faster,” Duncan was quick to point out.

More silence from Devin. But not from Allie. She continued to curse and yell, and Gracelyn hoped she didn’t break out of whatever restraints were on her.

“I thought you’d want to handle the arrest,” Devin finally said. “SAPD might not turn her over to you to answer for what she did, and I know Gracelyn especially will want her sister punished.”

“Abigail is mine.” That came as another shout from Allie. “I can do with her what I want.”

The words hit Gracelyn like a heavyweight’s fists. Allie could be just ranting out of rage, but that sounded very much like the threat that it was. If Allie got her hands on Abigail, there was no telling what she’d do to the child.

Duncan sighed and scrubbed his hand over his face, and he checked the text messages that were lighting up his phone. “Stay put at the end of the road. Deputies Vanetti and Leonard will be there in just a few minutes. They can take custody of Allie and transport her to the county jail.”

That brought out even louder shouts and cursing from Allie. “Gracelyn?” her sister called out. “I know you’re there. Help me. Help your sister. Please,” Allie begged. “Stop the deputies from taking me.”

Gracelyn nearly spoke, not to give Allie any assurance she would stop the deputies, though. But to tell Allie that she would arrange for a lawyer to represent her.

“Gracelyn,” Allie went on, and this time she spoke her name as if coated with venom. “So much for sisterly love, huh? You won’t even help me. Well, to hell with you, Gracelyn. I wish the gunmen would have killed you. I wish you were dead.” She was shrieking by the time she got out those last words.

Gracelyn wanted to be immune to them. But she wasn’t. The words and her sister’s hatred sliced her to the bone.

“Hell, Allie managed to get out of the car,” Devin snarled.

Through the phone, Gracelyn heard Devin shouting her sister’s name just as there was the squeal of brakes.

And the deadly-sounding thud that followed.